Dear Sirius
by penink
Summary: Remus writes Sirius a letter one month after his death.


**Spoilers:** slight HBP  
** Warnings:** N/A  
** Disclaimer:** These characters belong to the great JK Rowling. No harm is intended and no money's being made. I just like to play.  
** Notes:** This was inspired by the one month anniversary of my grandmother's death. Needed a bit of an outlet. Thanks to MaryslilLamb and moonanddogstar for betaing and encouragement. Thank you, ladies!

* * *

Dear Sirius, 

I never thought I'd be writing _you_ one of these letters. I'm sitting here at my worn desk trying to stave off the unnatural chill we're experiencing this July. I don't suppose I need to tell you why. So much has changed this past month. We all seem to be floating about trying to get through our work and hinder Voldemort's progress, but it's difficult, you know? You're not here. I cannot believe it's a month since you fell through that veil. I had to stop myself from popping into the fire to contact you the night Dumbledore was injured. He's been working on something related to Voldemort for Harry. Judging from the questions he's asked me and Severus, I'd say it has to do with horcruxes. He's now wearing a ring with a cracked black stone and his right hand is severely burnt and withered. Of course, he says his reflexes are faltering. You know what he's like, always putting a brave face on. The truth is your death has affected him much more than he'll ever admit, especially after Harry's reaction. He says defeating Voldemort is imperative, the sooner the better, though he still cautions us to be diligent and ever vigilant. Sounds like Moody, doesn't he?

I'm entrenched with the other werewolves; Dumbledore believes, and rightly so, that we must find a way to convince them to turn against Voldemort. I can't say I'm having much success. I've stopped seeing Nymphadora. What's the use of pretending that would work? It's cruel to allow her to hope we'd have a future together. It isn't as if I have much time to see her anyway. If Greyback and the others ever learn the truth about me, they'd pounce on her before I could stop them—I'd be dead you see.

**_Harr's_** Sorry about that. Had to hide the letter quickly and ended up smudging it. It was Henry Torrington. Do you remember I told you about him last Christmas? He was the bloke who'd been bitten and was with Arthur at St. Mungo's. He's working for us now. Greyback set Brower and McGuff on his wife and children. Anyway, I was saying that Harry's at The Burrow now, has been for about a week or so. He seems to be doing better from what Dumbledore's told me; much more subdued and thinking a bit more before he acts. I suppose you'll disapprove of that some, but you must realize he needs to be more methodical. Was that your gift to him? Your death would teach him to be less splenetic? I daresay you could've chosen a better method. And I suppose you'll say I should be less pragmatic! If it were only that easy, my old friend. Without you and James, I feel more compelled to help Dumbledore. And if anything were to happen…surely, you must see I've taken the right course as regards Nymphadora.

Still, we must carry on. The Death Eaters have taken to attacking Muggles and wizards again. Fudge was sacked, did I tell you? And the chill I mentioned earlier is, of course, due to the Dementors—they're breeding and are very much in league with the other side. Though, I suppose we none of us would be feeling their effects so keenly were you here.

Is my subject shifting getting on your nerves yet? I'm sure it doesn't, not after all these years. Well, if I know James he'll have told you to expect this missive—you ought to see the one I wrote him and Lily—quite rambling. Yet, how does one verbalize how a friendship impacts one's life? I cannot begin to express it properly even if my thoughts have dwelt on you for this past month—impressions, scenes, jokes, pranks…so many things we shared…so many joys and heartaches. I'll treasure those memories for that is how you'll never truly leave this world. I won't be writing again though. Month one and that's it. It doesn't do to dwell on sorrow too long—you taught me that again and again over the long years of our friendship. I do thank you for that. Without you and James—and Peter, I must recognize that—I don't know what would have become of me at Hogwarts. And later. Thank you for your friendship. And I do hope you can truly forgive me for thinking you guilty when James and Lily went. Please tell James I'll keep an eye on Harry—I can do that for the three of you. I'll try not to fail you all. Put in a good word for all of us still here, would you? This Voldemort's a nasty piece of work, as you well know.

Goodbye, my friend.

Moony.


End file.
